Asphyxiation
by seabroth
Summary: Kaworu's suffocating, and so is Shinji for that matter, and they shouldn't need hands at their throats to make them realize just what kind of predicament they're in.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Asphyxiation

_Posted January Fourth, 2008  
_

Kaworu lounged against the hard concrete wall of his apartment building, sipping a styrofoam cup of too-bitter tea quietly. Shinji hadn't come out yet. Because the other boy had been staying with him for so long, he had finally decided that they'd need to go to the grocery store_ together _and that the EVA pilot would have to help carry the items home in return for staying another night. It was really more for himself than anything - it was depressing, staying in that place for days on end - and while he liked having Shinji around, it wasn't as if he didn't want to see him get better. Maybe going outside for a little bit would cheer him up, but he doubted that a bit of sidewalk and dead grass would actually take his mind off his current situation.

He frowned - to make things worse, the temperature of his drink was now lukewarm - and noticed that his temporary roommate was standing awkwardly a few paces away from him. He was staring at the ground, looking slightly apathetic, and Kaworu tried not to sigh too audibly.

"I'm glad you decided to come."

He heard a mumbled reply, and didn't have to decipher the words to know what had been said. _I don't want to go back._ He placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder and stared into his eyes, trying to see if there had been any change from the past few days. Had he finally started showing some more emotion? Ikari looked sick, too sick, but not in a physical way. Tired, maybe.

_You can't stay here forever._ He wanted to voice these words so badly, took a breath and almost started to speak, but bit his lip and turned towards the street instead. It could wait, at least for a little while. But he didn't have all the time in the world, not by far, and every second that ticked by was like the first of nails slowly being driven into his coffin. Shinji's face was contorted in something like anger, something like sadness and regret and fear and _fury_. Kaworu was too close.

The pale boy moved again - swiftly and with their skin tantalizingly centimeters away - and kissed him on the lips. He didn't want to have to deal with the pilot hyperventilating again, once was enough, and a warm mouth was certainly much more convenient than a paper bag. And he'd be lying if he said he saw no profit in it, either. He steered his friend back against the wall, the one that he had been leaning against mere moments before, and paused for air. Was he feeling better now? Was everything under control?

Another mess of jumbled words that only he knew the true meaning of. _I hate you._ Fingers slid uneasily up his neck, alarmingly close to crushing him, and he tried to kiss again. His tactic wasn't working, and, oh god, hecouldnotbreathe as Shinji's hands _constricted._

_I hate you._

He was fumbling, reaching, pulling on the other's shirt and hair and _anything _in order for him to let go.This panicked feeling was worse than anything, and this might have been what the brunet had felt like after seeing Asuka lay in that coma as if she were sleeping, simply sleeping, but unable to wake up even with a magical touch. Just a little, that was all he needed, because he was gasping only there was nothing to draw in - draw in - and he kept his eyes open so that if he died, this boy's face would be the last thing he saw.

_Was he fading?_ He breathed in one more time, and the hands must have relaxed somewhat because he could get a little _but not all_ and it wasn't so bad anymore, because he was feeling dizzy and light and a little wonderful all at once, and the lack of oxygen wasn't an issue anymore, because this felt almost_ good_. Almost. He would have laughed, and he tried to smile, and everything was turning blissfully whiteorwasitblack and he was blinking but it didn't make any difference as to what he saw.

It was as if his own personal Heaven were moving in for him, blocking out everything with slowly growing clouds that he couldn't shake no matter how he moved. He realized at one point that he couldn't see Ikari anymore. But he could still feel those hands - shaking now, perhaps, because his whole body felt light and he couldn't quite tell and even the voices were different - and when he was finally allowed to drop to the cold ground beneath them, he was still smiling in-between his labored gasps.

He had spilt tea on his pants.

The world was still white. Black. Grey. It didn't matter, it was only the fact that Shinji was gone from his sight.

He felt weak, oh-so-weak, but everything was getting better.

"I love you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Written for a kink meme. Original prompt was:

_Kaworu/Shinji, breath play  
_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Neon Genesis Evangelion.

Asphyxiation

_Posted February Ninth, 2008 _

Kaworu's hands used to pause there, used to flit over the collar of his starched-white shirt and the sensitive skin of his neck. Used to hang over his shoulder, used to voice questions in the space_ right below his ear_, amused in the way that Shinji himself could never be. Kaworu's breath used to ghost over the area when sleeping - or awake, because sometimes there was no difference - and once, _once_, he touched the other boy there himself. With his own hands in fit of rage that he regretted almost most of all.

There's nothing but silence now, because in the quiet he can - _remember, hear, the two are the same _- be comforted in the fact that the sight of messy hair and rumpled clothing could still meet him, again, in the daylight hours. He's breathing air, not blood. He's tasting skin, not LCL. He's hearing voices, slightly upset and desperate and disappointed, not the ticking of clocks or the rustling of sheets as seconds, minutes, hours pass him by.

The dust on the countertops has always been there.

He finds himself trailing a finger along his throat, seeing the marks that are left. Because every time Kaworu touched him, every time that gaze had reached his own, there had been a mark. Otherwise he could fool himself into thinking nothing was ever there, that those red, red eyes had never fixated on him in the first place.

That he had never existed.

There are fleeting bruises - _Why do you hate me_ - a scuffle that he remembers clearly, as if it happened hours before. Because it happened hours before. Because those paper-white hands are at his throat and he can feel them squeezing, choking, determined in a way he only wished he was, and the shortness of breath transports him to an earlier time of interrupted showers and the invasion of personal space.

He can see a faint smile to his right, the grip is weakening, something like a mumble is spoken as he slides wearily off the bed and onto the floor. Shinji is almost positive that a door clicks shut as he rests on the ground, gasping and coughing. _Kaworu will return tomorrow_ he thinks, and now time starts again with minute movements on the kitchen wall.

_The counters._ The third child pauses and entertains the idea of wiping them off, then shakes his head in dismissal. The dust on the countertops has always been there, and he walks away, fingering the collar of his starched-white shirt.

Inside his room, underneath cotton sheets, he hears the voice of a boy who is long-gone. He feels skin, alarmingly cold in the still warmth of the night, press against his own. And he thinks, maybe, if his breathing falls short, that he won't need a paper bag

nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Oh... man. This was really a hiatus, wasn't it? I'm really sorry! Once everything ended, I was distracted by my new school and joining the anime club and everything. I haven't even caught up with Tsubasa or finished reading the Haruhi light novels. (I've been watching "Welcome to the NHK", "Twelve Kingdoms", "Revolutionary Girl Utena" and I just started "Lucky Star" too.)

Also, I got a new notebook. Red. One of those huge, 5-subject ones you never think you could possibly fill up.


End file.
